


smokescreen

by scandalous



Series: Dick or Treat 2019 [8]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Burnplay, Cigarettes, Degradation, Dom James Wilson (House M.D.), Eating Ash, Frottage, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Smoking, Sub Greg House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalous/pseuds/scandalous
Summary: It's a personal affront to James Wilson, an oncologist, for his lover to smoke cigarettes.





	smokescreen

**Author's Note:**

> i... regret everything. but i've made my bed and i'll lie in it.
> 
> enjoy?

“Are you sure?”

“Wilson,” House says tiredly, pulling him into another kiss, “if I hear that question from you one more time, I might kick your ass.”   
  
“Mm,” he mumbles into his lips, “You can’t kick much, though.”   


He groans.

* * *

They’re both still fully clothed, and House is idly smoking a cigarette. It’s a habit he picked up at Mayfield, a little thing he dropped as soon as he was home— in part because of the fact that Wilson would have his ego hurt over the fact his boyfriend is smoking cigarettes. His oncology degree has a lot of words to say on that matter.

“House,” Wilson says, stepping towards him. He's leaning against the wall, eyes lidded as he focuses on inhaling the smoke, the rich feeling of it. “You’re smoking.”   
  
“Yeah, and?”   
  
Wilson pushes him against the wall, a hand on his shoulder. “I told you that if you smoked—”   


House laughs a little and offers him the cigarette. “Get to it, then.”   
  
He groans. “Insolent,” he mumbles as he grabs it, rolling House’s sleeves up some more. “Your arm, extend it,” he nearly barks.

House rolls his eyes but does as told, it resting against the wall, the back of his hand against it. Without warning, Wilson presses the lit cigarette right in the middle between his elbow and his wrist. He howls, recoiling— his cock twitches in his pants.

“Wilson,” he breathes as he presses it deeper, makes sure to leave a mark before pulling it away. “Wi-Wilson.”   
  
“Yes?” He kisses his neck. “Are you learning?” he asks before pushing his leg in between House’s. He coos mockingly, looking at him with raised brows. “Aww, you’re hard already? What a whore. You’re  _ getting off _ on getting  _ burned _ —” As if to make a point, he presses it again, an inch away from the first burn.

House cries out, the pain searing through his arm, the burn, the ashes— fuck. “Wilson…” he pants out.

“Yes, yes, I know, you want more, isn’t that it?” 

“I—” He closes his eyes. “Yes… please.”

“Gladly.”

House moans brokenly when the still-lit cigarette is pressed against his skin, his hips stuttering up right into Wilson’s thigh. “W-Wilson— I— fuck…”   
  
“Yeah, I know,” he says. He reaches over to pop the first few buttons of House’s shirt open. “Can I tip it over here, baby? Have the ash on your chest? I’d suggest using your tongue for such a thing, but you aren’t whorish for that yet, aren’t you?”   


He moans and, not allowing himself to talk, he opens his mouth and lets his tongue loll out.

“Ooh,” Wilson says, “You really  _ are  _ that pathetic.” He lifts the cigarette and snuffs it out on the wall before tipping the ash on House’s tongue. It’s disgusting, he can already tell, but he knows just what repercussions he’ll get if he even thinks about spitting it out. “Come on, baby, you asked for this. Swallow.”   
  
He swallows and can’t help but cough a little afterward.

“Good,” he praises. “I’ll get you some water.” Wilson pulls away and goes to get it, handing House a glass of water. He drinks it gladly, the terrible aftertaste soon leaving his mouth. Wilson hums and grabs House’s arm, looking at the burn marks, three of them, neatly spread out on it. “I did a good job, it seems.”

“Wilson…” he pants. “Please.”   
  
“What is it?”   
  
“I… want to get off.”   
  
“I know.”   
  
“But—”   
  
“I said I know. You aren’t getting that much from me.”

House closes his eyes and whimpers, hips still bucking up into the air uselessly. After a few minutes of teasing touch, Wilson pulls his pants down, doing the same with his boxers before pulling off House’s. And he lets their cocks brush together before starting to rut his hips up, pre-come slicking the movement and making it far easier.

House moans, eyes rolling back, still feeling the throbbing pain of the burns in his arm. 

“Wilson,” he moans.

“I know, baby,” he breathes, leaning in and kissing him hard, all tongue and teeth, pulling away after a few seconds. “I know, little slut. Oh, you really let me use your mouth as an ashtray— you’re such a pathetic thing, oh, fuck, House—”   


Wilson’s hips stutter up and he comes, some of it right into House’s work shirt, some of it trailing down House’s jeans. After catching his breath, he pulls away; House is still completely hard, his cock still dribbling pre-come. He chuckles and pulls him into another kiss. 

“Go and put your pants back on, House,” he orders coolly. He starts heading to the bathroom. “If you try and get off— I’ll know, and you know there will be consequences.”   


House moans and nods.

Wilson doesn’t waste time to get to the bathroom and let the tub fill with water. He knows after such a scene, House needs some care.


End file.
